Strike: Dax Page 8

Kate hesitates and her mouth twists up into a pained grimace. “I’m sorry Dax. I think it’s best we just stay friends.” She chokes up, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

  This. This is why I don’t let my emotions show. It’s a weakness that can be used to exploit you, let you down, make you feel shit you shouldn’t have to feel.

  “Fine,” I reply stonily, the mask back in place.

  “So,” Kate asks, her voice cracking. “Can you take me to see Adam? I really need to chat with him.”

  “Adam?” So she didn’t actually come here to see me tonight. And if her flatmate did give her my number, she never rang either. Kate had no intention of ever seeing me again. This information takes her rejection to another level. She not only crushed my ego, she chucked it to the ground, spit on it, and then ground it to pieces under her boot.

  “Follow me,” I growl, ducking around her and down the hall.

  It takes several frustrating tries to find the room Adam is in. As I open the door, I start talking, “Hey, I’ve been looking for you…” Whoops! I see him rearranging clothing and a thoroughly fucked blonde behind him doing the same. The sight stops me dead in my tracks. I should have known. This is exactly why Kate doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.

  Impatient, whatever Kate needs to say unable to wait any longer, she pushes past me irritably. “What’s going on Dax? Move your big arse.”

  Oh Fuck. This is not going to be good. Kate’s about to get another dose of visual proof of why a bloke like me is the absolute last thing she needs.

  Kate

  The phone in my dormitory rings for the millionth time since I hightailed it out of the Viper Room last night.

  Dax.

  “Are you going to answer it?” My friend Abby is staring at me, an eyebrow arched expectantly, the end of her pen in her mouth.

  “No.”

  “He’s not going to stop calling until you do.” She puts down her notebook and joins me on my bed. “What happened?”

  “So much,” I whisper. “It’s all the same as it was back home, but somehow it’s so different.”

  “What do you mean? The band? Dax?”

  “Everything.”

  Visions of Adam with the blonde groupie last night are burned on the back of my eyeballs. The pictures in my head flash by so quickly I can hardly keep up—Adam and the blonde, Dax and Willa, the clusters of girls at the DK, the woman on her knees in the back room of the fight club…

  “I’m sorry, Kate.” Abby puts a hand on my arm. “For whatever is making you so sad.”

  “I just…” I hold in a sob. “My entire life has been about Dax Davies, getting him to notice me. Now that he has, I-I can’t do it.” Abby waits patiently for me to continue. “There will always be loads of girls, prettier girls than me, hanging around just waiting to give him a suck or a shag. Girls with more experience, or… I don’t know. More everything than me!”

  The scene from last night replays in my head again—Adam smirking, a sexed-out blonde girl fixing her inflated cleavage.

  “You don’t trust Dax?”

  “He’s never given me a reason not to trust him because we’ve never been together, but I’ve been there, Abby. I’ve seen what he does… what they all do with the groupies. I can’t deal with it. I just can’t. I don’t have it in me to compete with them.”

  “Kate, you don’t have to compete. If Dax didn’t want you, he wouldn’t pursue you.” The phone rings again. “And right now, if that’s who I think it is calling, my opinion is that he is definitely pursuing you.”

  I wipe away a tear that has run down my cheek and quickly right myself on the bed. Plain Kate versus a veritable horde of gorgeous, posh girls. Yeah right.

  “Forget it. I can’t deal with Dax right now. Let’s study. There’s no way I’ll pass my test tomorrow if I don’t learn this.”

  It’s easy to avoid Dax after that night at the Viper Room. I’m so busy with school and traveling for football, I’m hardly ever at my flat. Not that he’s ever stopped by. There’s never a message on the whiteboard on my door and Lila’s never mentioned Dax coming to see me, although she would be the crazy type to erase any messages he might have left.

  The holidays come and go, with Abby being kind enough to invite me to her family’s house for break. There isn’t enough money for an airline ticket back to the U.K. for Christmas. Mateo has left me alone, finally realizing we’ll only be friends. He’s a good bloke, just not the bloke I want.

  “Bollocks!” The phone is ringing as I try to balance a takeaway cup of tea, my books, and my enormous footy bag while unlocking the door to my dorm. Somehow I manage to shove it open and get to the phone before it stops.

  “Hello?”

  “K-Kate?”

  “Ellie?”

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  The door to the flat closes behind me. I drop my books and duffel to the floor. Right now, my only concern is my friend, a friend that has been through hell and back with no one there to support her. Tears flood my eyes, overflowing down my cheeks. My voice is already all choked up and my nose sniffling pathetically.

  “Ellie,” I sob, “where have you been?”

  “Can I come visit?”

  “You don’t even have to ask.”

  As I lay back on my bed to catch up with Ellie I think that maybe a little bit of my life can be complete again.

  “So tell me about UCLA. Is it as much fun as we thought it would be?”

  Ellie stares at me with wide eyes across the backseat of the cab we’re taking from LAX. Two weeks after she called and she just landed, looking extremely tired. Worse than tired, she looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks.

  I don’t answer her question immediately. Do I tell her how inadequate I feel here? Surrounded by posh homes, impossible beauty, and people who spend more money on one car than there is in all of Hackney? Or do I lie and tell her it’s brilliant, that she could still transfer in next year?

  “It’s… it’s keeping me busy.” I give her what I know is a weak answer. Thankfully, Ellie is too knackered to realize how pathetic it is.

  “That’s brilliant, Kate. Really. I’m so happy for you.”

  She wants to know about all the glam parties I’ve been to, which doesn’t take long since I’ve been to exactly zero. I tell her all about my coach and how great he is, and how he gets so much out of our team. Ellie laughs when I describe my wealthy flatmate’s very active social life.

  I haven’t told her about Dax yet, afraid I may open up old wounds with regards to Adam. I’m not hiding it, but I don’t want to bring it up either. Calling him up and asking if I could meet up with them tonight was just about the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Ellie wants to see Adam, so I did it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t horribly awkward.

  “Davies.”

  “Dax. It’s Kate.”

  “Oh.”

  God this is awkward. “Um, so, I’m really sorry about ducking out of the club that night.”

  “That was nearly five months ago, Kate. I think I’m over it.” His voice is harsh, cold. In other words, normal for Dax.

  “Okay. Right. Well, I was hoping to meet up with you at one of your gigs.”

  Silence.

  “Dax?”

  “You want to meet up at a gig? After vanishing and avoiding my calls you want to pop in and meet up?” Dax laughs sarcastically.

  “Ellie is coming to visit. She wants to see Adam, but doesn’t want us to tell him she’s here.”

  “Ellie? Here? Why the fuck can’t we tell him?”

  “She said she might not be able to go through with seeing him. She didn’t want any expectations.”

  “Right. So you’re ringing for Ellie. Just like you visited the Viper Room for Ellie. Do you ever think about ringing or visiting me without a reason? We were friends once, weren’t we?”

  Crap.

  “I’m sorry Dax. It’s not you—”

  “Fuck it. It’s not me it’s you, right? Whateve
r. When will she be in town?”

  The things I do for my best friend. That was the most awkward conversation of my life.

  “Here we are.” The cab pulls up in front of my dorm. We pile out of the car with her weekend bag.

  “This is fab, Kate.” Ellie shades her eyes to look up at the tall dormitory building. “This whole place, it’s like…” she slowly spins in a circle, taking in the campus, the palm trees, the sunny weather, the students laughing and walking by, “it’s like a movie in real life!”

  I chuckle as I unlock the outer door. “I thought the same thing at first, El. You get used to it. It’s not as posh as it seems, trust me.”

  We cram into the elevator with a few other students. “It’s better than Hackney, that’s for sure,” she whispers.

  “Yeah. It is.”

  I can’t disagree. As insignificant as I feel in L.A., Hackney was bloody depressing. The misery and poverty pressed down heavily on your psyche, making you feel as if you carried the weight of the world around with you every single day. At least L.A. looks happy, even if it has a desperate, fake soul under that shiny surface.

  “Let’s get settled and get ready to go out. We’ve got big plans tonight!” I keep my voice light, trying to shed the dark mood that has fallen over us.

  The lift doors open to my floor. Ellie grins, her face lighting up and for a moment she looks like the old Ellie again, the best mate who had a brilliant future ahead of her, not the shell of a girl who got off a plane an hour ago. “Big plans, huh?”

  I grin back. “Yep. Big. Huge.”

  “Well, let’s get to it then.”

  God, it feels so good to see her. “I’m glad you’re here, El.” I hug her, holding her tight. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too, Kate.” She straightens up, breaking the embrace. “Now, take me to your flat. I want to meet this slag flatmate of yours.”

  I nearly choke in disbelief. Ellie never talks bad about someone. She meets my gaze and we burst out laughing.

  “Right. C’mon then. The town bike’s waiting to meet you. Be careful, she may try to chat you up as well. Her lust knows no bounds, I’m sure. She’s some spoiled socialite or something.”

  We’re overcome with laughter again, and just like that, it’s as if we were never apart.

  Dax

  “C’mon! You lot are making us late.” I barge into the backstage room of whatever club we’re playing tonight to yell at my mates. Glancing around, I notice one of us is not where he’s supposed to be. “Christ! He’s gone missing again?”

  Gavin looks up from his seat on the floor next to Hawke, pointing at the closed door on one side of the tiny space. The moaning and groaning I hear leaves no doubt what Adam’s up to on the other side.

  “We tried telling him. He doesn’t listen to us.” Hawke shrugs and returns his focus to his mobile, not caring one way or another if we’re onstage when we’re supposed to be. How in the fuck I became the dependable one of this lot, I have no bloody clue.

  “Adam!” I bang my fist on the door, rattling it in its frame. “Get your sorry arse out here now!” I know I’m being a dick simply because I’m going to be seeing Kate tonight and it has me all wound up. After turning me down flat and then dodging me for five months she rings me out of nowhere, and not because she misses me, but because Ellie is in town and she wants to see Adam.

  I’m angry with myself for caring, and even angrier with myself for trying to make things right with Kate after she shut me down. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I can’t stand the thought of Kate thinking I’m a bastard. Even though I undoubtedly am.

  Seconds later, the door to the room opens and out strolls a blonde tart, Adam trailing not too far behind. With a hand to the chest, I shove him back and slam the door, giving us privacy, although, I’m quite sure Gavin and Hawke will be able to hear every word I say, as I’m not planning on being quiet.

  “You useless fucking tit!” My finger stabs into Adam’s chest. “I didn’t come to this bloody fucking hot, miserable, stuck up city to babysit your pathetic, whinging arse.” My best mate’s eyes go wide at my verbal explosion. I can only hope my words have finally hit their mark with him. “Get your shit together and do it fast, Reynolds. I’m not failing at this because you can’t get over Ellie. Man the fuck up and stop being such a big girl’s blouse. No more shags before gigs. I could give a fuck less what you do after, but we will get on stage on-fucking-time. Understand?”

  Adam swallows and nods. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never been on the receiving end of my temper, precariously balanced on a knife’s-edge at all times. He’s bloody well seen what I can do with my fists when I’m angry and certainly doesn’t want to go down that road.

  Storming out of the room, I bellow at Gavin and Hawke. “Get your lazy arses up! It’s show time and I’m going to have fucking fun if it kills me!”

  Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.

  Fuck you, dad. Despite my hate for him and his rules, I still force myself to wipe the hostility off my face as I was trained. I pause in the hall to calm down, clear my head, and carefully bottle everything up inside. The others brush past me as I lean my forehead into the wall and close my eyes. If Kate were back here she would have me set to rights in half a second. All she’d have to do is smile and I’d be ready to go.

  Why am I thinking that? Because she’s out in the crowd somewhere? She’s not to see me. Why can’t I just fucking let it go?

  “Fuck me.”

  Sighing, I turn towards the stage area and meet up with the rest of the band as we’re announced. At first, I have to force myself to play, but as the night goes on and the music flows from my fingers to the guitar, it becomes genuine. There’s nothing I love more than our music and being on stage.

  “Dax! I love you!”

  I smirk at the screams that more than a few of the intoxicated ladies send my way. They’re mostly harmless, and a little flirting makes the crowd more fun. So I peek at the girls shoved up against the stage as they give us moon-eyes and shoot lusty looks our way. Being up here reminds me of fighting, which always gets me anticipating my reward at the end. Some days, it takes quite a bit of concentration to keep from springing wood right on stage.

  Adam works the audience like a maestro directing an orchestra, effortlessly pulling energy from the crowd and giving it back to them tenfold. By the third song he has every single person in the club eating out of his hand. It’s a gift really, to charm, to instill passion, to make people feel special. Adam does it as well or better than the best in the business.

  Our set ends on a brilliant high, the entire place going crazy for more. We stumble off stage, sweaty and smiling, riding the wave of endorphins that always follow a great performance. Using the hem of my shirt, I wipe off the sweat that’s dripping down the side of my face. While the material is up over my eyes, a cool hand caresses my slick abs, making its way under the edge of my jeans.

  “What the—?”

  I immediately drop the shirt to see who’s touching me.

  Bloody fucking hell. It’s Kate’s crazy flatmate, Lila. A girl who for some reason can’t get it out of her thick, spoiled skull that I’m not interested in shagging her.

  “Lila,” I deadpan, removing her hand from where it’s trying to dig down into my briefs.

  “Hey Dax.” She leans into me in some sort of sad attempt at seduction, batting her eyelashes ridiculously. Five months of near stalker-like behavior with me turning her down every time and this girl still can’t accept reality.

  “Oi, Dax. We’re goin’ out. You coming?” Gavin is leaning out of one of the back rooms, ready to leave. I can’t let him go, Ellie and Kate are here and we need to wait for them.

  “Right. Yeah, don’t leave yet.” He disappears down the hall towards the back door of the club. I turn back to my number one fan. “Lila. What are you doing here?” I wiggle out of her grasp but she’s much quicker, and more aggressive, than I expected.

&nb
sp; “You’re so big and muscular, Dax. I’d love to see what you could do with that body of yours.” Lila purrs, wrapping her arms round my waist so I can’t move. She actually fucking purrs at me! What the hell is wrong with her?

  I reach behind me to unwind her octopus arms and the little shit uses the distraction to lean up on her toes and lick a line right across my neck as she takes a photo on her mobile.

  “Jesus, Lila. Give it a bloody rest!” I snap, louder than intended. I’m just so fucking sick of this girl. She keeps turning up at my shows, throwing herself at me whenever she can.

  Her eyes pop open in surprise at my rebuke, but only for a second. Then she’s back all over me like a damn barnacle.

  “You don’t mean that, Dax. We could have so much fun together. I’m here with a bunch of my friends. Let’s take this to the after party.”

  Lila’s hands are everywhere at once—on my chest, my abs, my waist, my back. It’s literally as if she has extra arms. I back up, knowing that my patience is reaching its breaking point. Being within striking distance of her isn’t smart. I’d never hit a girl on purpose, but I’ve never been given a reason to either. I don’t trust the beast inside me when provoked to this extent.

  When Lila tries to move with me, the restraint I had over my frustration comes undone.

  Rule 3—Women who act like slags can be treated like slags.

  I grab her wrists, trapping them in one of my hands. “That’s it. I’ve tried to be nice to you. I’ve tried being direct. Clearly, you have some sort of learning disability. Listen and listen good…” For the first time since I’ve met her, Lila’s cocky attitude vanishes. This is going to be ugly. “I. Don’t. Want. You. Got it? It’s never going to happen. Never. Stop coming to my shows, stop coming backstage, stop touching me, stop bloody talking to me. In fact, I don’t want to see you at one of my shows ever again. Back the fuck off!” My last sentence comes out as a loud, menacing roar.

  Without waiting for a response, I shove past her, not caring that I may have knocked into her a bit with my elbow. She shouldn’t have been standing so close to someone as blatantly dangerous as myself. She shouldn’t have been standing so close to me, period.